One Step At A Time
by terminal insanity
Summary: UPDATED! CHAPTER TWO UP! yukimura wakes up in hospital, only to realise that he has no recollection of his life up to that moment. and even sanada refuses to tell him what has caused him to be hospitalized (this has nothing to do with his illness-assume t
1. chapter one

One step, then two, it feels like eternity, stretching out one moment into forever. A third, and I'm almost there. I can see it, I can almost _feel_ it. It's so close… One last step…it's right in front of me.

And suddenly, I'm flying.

"Yukimura?"

That voice, it sounds like it's miles away. It's familiar, but I can barely hear it, can barely make out the words. It's almost as if the darkness absorbs more than just light, as if it steals away sound as well. Maybe if I try to…

But I can't move. It's not even as if it hurts to move. I _can't_ move. I try to reach for the voice, if only I could touch it…maybe I could…

"Seiichi?" The voice is softer, it gentles, and although I can't really feel anything, I can sense a hand holding mine. Warm, large, callused… I know that hand, I know it as well as I know my own. His name…

I can't remember his name.

I know his name used to be more or less synonymous with mine. Two halves of the same whole. There was no me without him, and him without me.

But I can't remember his name.

I want to open my eyes, I want to see his face. I _need_ to see his face. Maybe then… Perhaps then I'll remember…

Who am I?

The panic is unbearable. Even with my eyes shut, all my senses muted, I can hear him, distantly, crying out in dismay. I can almost feel his hand squeezing mine reassuringly. Why does it feel like I'm thrashing about?

I try to move, and I still can't. But I can feel his head lying on the mattress, his hair brushing my arm. I think he's asleep. I wish I could touch his hair. I can't remember who he is, what he looks like, even, but I remember that he has dark hair like silk, skin tanned from long hours spent outside playing…playing something. A sport. We used to play together. And that's all I remember.

I try to move, and… Success! I manage only a twitch, the barest brush of fingertip against his hair, but its movement, nonetheless. His hair really _does_ feel like magic…so soft… I sigh.

"Seiichi?"

There's a yearning, a pleading tone in his voice, and I want desperately to reply, to assure him that everything's okay. Even if I don't know what's going on myself. I try to speak, to make any semblance of sound, but all that comes out is a shaky sigh. I want to open my eyes, to look at him, to show him through a gaze alone, that everything will be okay, and also to see for myself what has happened. What is happening.

But I can't. I feel my eyelids tremble, but they do not rise, and I cannot see.

"Shh, Seiichi, it's okay," I hear him whisper, his voice broken, but as if desperately trying to hide it. "Everything's okay."

I try to tell him that everything _isn't_ okay, but I can barely even move my lips, and no words come out of my mouth. And then I feel something petal soft against my cheek, and then my lips, and I taste the salt of tears.

_Don't cry_, I want to tell him. He is my support, and if he crumbles, so will I. But now that I think about it, perhaps, I, too, was _his_ foundation, and without me, he has collapsed. I want so badly to just hold him in my arms, to be held in his, and know for certain that it'll all be okay.

"Seiichi," he murmurs against my lips. "Please wake up…"

And just like that, like a flick of a switch, I feel drained of energy. Lethargy overtakes me, and I find myself slipping off into a dreamless sleep.

He's always there. Somehow, no matter when I drift back into consciousness, he is always there. How does he slip off to the bathroom without me knowing? Has he eaten? Don't starve yourself because of me.

_I'm not worth it_.

Maybe today I can finally move. I try, but my muscles refuse to obey me. My fingers move, but hardly so. My eyelids flicker, eyelashes flutter like butterfly wings or the frantic flapping of a hovering hummingbird. But they do not open.

I just want to see him…

And then, he feels my fingers move.

"Seiichi!" It is a cry of shock, surprise and joy. But there is apprehension there too, a dreaded anticipation that thickens the air. Blinded, paralysed, I feel it even more so.

He speaks again. I've assumed that it is my name he calls. I still can't remember. It's all a blurry haze, as if someone's poured water over the watercolour of my life. A watercolour that hadn't yet dried. Smudges and patches are all I see, all I know.

I remember his eyes… Hard and narrowed, stern and unyielding, they soften when they look at me. Light dances in them when he catches me gazing at him, smiling. And he smiles back. But I still don't recall his face. That's one of the blurs.

"Seiichi, can…can you hear me?"

I try to nod, but to no avail. I have to let him know that I hear him, that I'm awake. I touch his hand with the tip of one shaking finger. It's so hard, I'm getting so tired just doing that. But then he kisses me, and it's like being hooked up to a dynamo. Energy is suddenly not a problem.

He's laughing and crying at the same time, but they're tears of the overjoyed kind. I can feel his smile, the tug of his lips. He's finally laughing again. A sense of lightness envelopes me, and I feel…at peace.

"Seiichi, it's me, Sanada," he whispers into my ear. "I haven't left your side the entire time, so please, stay with me now."

_Sanada_ That name holds as little significance to me as does the name that is supposed to be mine—the name that he calls me.

He notices the faint wrinkle of my brow as I try to remember, and he smoothes it with gentle fingers. He runs his fingers tenderly, almost reverently, through my hair. It's soft, but seems rather limp. Perhaps I've been abed too long. A callused thumb caresses my cheekbone.

"It's okay, Seiichi. You don't have to try and think. The doctors, they told me—told your family as well—that you might not remember certain things. That you might have lost your memory completely. You can tell me which it is when you've gotten a bit better, okay?"

_I've lost my memory?_ Well, that explains my utter confusion, at least. And my totally lack of knowledge of self. My mind is like a blank slate. Clean, and frighteningly empty. There is nothing there.

As I drift through the nothingness, I find myself wandering into sleep. And I wonder if, when I wake, will I remember anything at all? Or will everything be the same as it is now?

I feel the warmth of the sun on my skin. It feels nice… The sleep is always cold. I feel stronger now. I wonder…

I clutch weakly at his hand—he always holds my hand, as if to let me know that he's still there. I feel him stir, then he touches my hair.

"Good morning, Seiichi."

I want to look at him. I want to.

_I have to!_

I _need_ to.

It feels like what I imagine a baby taking its first step would feel like. It's exhilarating, it's extremely scary, and I'm so full of uncertainty that I could burst. I hold his hand as tightly as I'm able to.

And I open my eyes.

Colours sear themselves into my eyes—eyes unused to light for so long. I cry out in pain, instantly shutting my eyes once more. They stream with tears. It hurts so much…so, so much…

"Seiichi… Seiichi…" He murmurs soothingly, wrapping strong arms around my limp body, holding me close. "Shh, a little at a time, Seiichi. One step at a time."

I try again, but this time, I open my eyes a bare crack. They're so filled with tears that I see only blurry shapes, visuals of what my mind sees and is. I blink rapidly, I want to see his face. He brushes the tears from my eyes.

I still see only vague shapes. My eyes have to take some time to relearn how to focus. It takes a few long moments that seem like forever, but then his face comes into focus, and I'm drowning in fathomless eyes the colour of bitter chocolate.

The lights have faded from his eyes, and they're filled with worry, but the tenderness I recall seeing there—it's still there, and then some more. He smiles, and it's like a warm cup of chocolate and marshmallows roasted over a flame. It soothes, and it satisfies, and I want to see it again and again.

"I've always loved your eyes," he tells me. Funny, I've always loved _his_. They're totally unreadable to everyone else but me. I know that.

That blank slate is no longer so blank.

I open my mouth, try to say something, but it comes out as naught more than a hoarse wheeze. Still, he bends his head ever closer, trying to decipher my gasps. He is so patient with me… I try to smile, I manage a twitch of movement at the corners of my lips, but it's enough. He knows. He smiles back.

And I try again.

I just want to say something. _Anything_. I want to say his name. It means nothing to mean, and yet, if I can say it…perhaps… Perhaps I'll remember, even if it's just a little.

What comes out is a faint hiss, but I do not give up. A captain does not give up.

_A captain?_ Where did _that_ come from?

"Ss-Sa…" I grimace at the cracked sound that seems to be my voice. But it will be worth it to see the smile on his face if I say his name. "S-Sana-da."

He stares at me in shock. I see the tears well up in his deep brown eyes, and the smile he give me is shaky, tremulous, wondrous. "Seiichi," is all he manages before sweeping me into his arms.

I can only smile—try to—as he hugs me close. I can feel the warmth of his body seeping into me. It chases away the cold. His body shudders with tears of joy. My head feels rather heavy, and I let it fall, nestled in the crook of his shoulder as he rocks me.

"Sanada," I say again, the name flowing smoother now. I sound a bit better. Less like a frog suffering from laryngitis and more like a raspy whisper.

A word flashes into my mind, and even before I know what I'm doing, I speak.

"Gen-kun…" He releases me quickly and stares at me again. Have I said something wrong? I blink owlishly at him.

"Say that again," he says, his voice almost pleading.

"Gen…kun?"

He sees the confusion in my eyes, but it is enough for him that I remember even that little bit of information.

"My name is Genichirou, remember, Seiichi?" He brushes tear-drenched lips over mine. "You used to call me 'Gen-kun', even after I told you not to because it sounded so undignified."

_Ah_. Sanada Genichirou. The name fits. It sounds…right.

"Genichirou," I say, afraid. "I can't…" And suddenly I realise that I'm crying. "I can't remember anything at all."

"I know," he whispers. "I figured as much." He kisses the tears away. It doesn't occur to me that we're both guys, it doesn't feel strange at all. We…fit. "But let's take things slowly first, ne, Seiichi? You told Kirihara that very often, I think he's actually grown some patience now."

"Kirihara?"

"You're the captain of our school's tennis club. I'm your vice-captain, your fukubuchou. Kirihara is one of the team players."

"Tennis?" I blink, the wet lashes seem to cling to my skin, before lifting away. "I'm a team captain?"

"Yes," he replies gently. "And a very good one at that. We've all missed you so much."

"What school are we in?"

"Rikkai Dai Fuzoku."

I wrinkle my brow, trying to remember. The name, it strikes a chord, deep in my mind. But that is all. "It sounds…familiar. But I can't place it."

"We're in junior high, and our school is affiliated to a high school and university." He strokes my hair, and it soothes me. I feel like a pet cat.

"I-I'm sorry, but it…" I sigh. "I can't remember," I whisper in disappointment and dismay.

"One step at a time, Yukimura," he murmurs. "It's enough that you're awake. Live one day a step at a time."

He hugs me close again, and I simply let him take my body weight. He feels so nice. I want to be able to touch him, run my hands all over him. Maybe my body will remember what my mind does not.

"I'll always be here for you," he continues. And then he kisses me. I try to kiss him back. It's a clumsy attempt, weak and sloppy, but I manage.

Sort of.

After a moment, he pulls away. Was I really _that_ bad? I look away, even if it means moving only my eyes and not my head. I can feel my cheeks burning. I've never even kissed a guy before—at least I don't recall ever having done so. But then again, I don't remember a thing, now do I?

"Seiichi?" He asks, a hint of confusion in his voice.

I can't bring myself to look at him. My face feels like it's on fire. I scowl—as much as I can, given my current condition—and refuse to look at him.

"I forgot," he says, and the tone of his voice has me glancing at him in surprise. He sounds utterly forlorn. "I forgot that you don't remember."

I look quizzically at him. Suddenly, I wish I could erase the despondent look in his eyes. He looks like he's just lost his best friend _and _his pet dog died on the same day. "Sanada," I say. "You look so sad. Tell me what's wrong."

He tries to smile, but it looks too forced to be real.

"Gen-kun," I say, my voice suddenly silken soft and stern. I have _no idea_ where that came from. I just reacted automatically, like it was something my brain was programmed to do. Perhaps there is hope after all, that I will recover my memory.

His eyes widen for a moment. Then he smiled wryly, and it is a true smile—even if a bit wary.

"It seems I can't keep anything from you, Seiichi. Not even when you can't remember a thing." He averts his eyes from mine. "It's just that I forgot that you don't remember me anymore. You don't remember _us_. I suppose I scared you a bit with that kiss."

"No you didn't," I confess in a whisper, lips curving slightly in a shy smile. "Us? What do you mean?"

"It was always me and you, or you and me. There was no one without the other. Do you understand, Seiichi?"

"I think I do." He traces his fingers over the bones of my face. "Tell me, how close were we?"

There is pain in his eyes as he considers what to say. I feel regret that my words have put it there, but I _have_ to know. It is imperative that I find out who this person holding me like a priceless treasure was to me.

"There are no words, Seiichi, to describe what we had," he finally says, and there is a glimmer in his eyes, of tears unshed.

"Then show me." He looks at me in complete surprise, blinking as if he's not sure if he's heard me correctly. The urge to soothe away the pain seems to lend me strength, and I'm able to move my head enough to nuzzle his shoulder. "_Show _me," I repeat in a husky whisper.

"Seiichi, you're still very weak. I can't possibly-"

Exasperation is apparently a good motivating factor. I part my lips and lick delicately at a patch of skin near his collarbone. "Show me how much I meant to you," I say again.

His movements are so tender, he is so gentle with me. He cups my face in his hand and moves in for a kiss that shakes my soul. I clutch at his shirt like he is my lifeline and I'm stranded in open water. Time seems to stop for that one, magical moment, where all I can feel, all that matters, is him.

His touch, his kiss, everything seems so familiar. I suddenly know that we've done much more than just kiss. It's like a fierce flash, a fiery poker that sears that knowledge into my brain. I jerk back and cry out in pain. It burns and there's a great throbbing pain in my skull. If I had the strength to, I would have tried clawing my head open, if only to try to ease that ache.

The room turns grey, and everything starts to spin. Nothing wants to stay still. My head feels like it's splitting open.

"Gen-kun," I groan. "It hurts! Make it stop, please, make it stop!"

He holds me to his body, stroking my back, not knowing how, but trying all the same, to make me feel better. The knowledge soothes me, but does not make the pain any more tolerable. The edges of my vision start to fuzz with black. I think I'm going to pass out. A sudden memory projects itself in my mind.

"That moon," I breathe, as my eyes drift shut. "It was so beautiful…"

_ He is laughing, I know it's a rare treat to see him laughing so openly. I tug his hand lower, then steal a bit of his ice cream with a sly, languorous lick. I lick the cream away from my lips slowly, seductively, my eyes telling him exactly what I'd be doing to him if we weren't out on the street. He stops laughing—out loud, at least—and his eyes twinkle merrily as he tilts my chin up for a deep kiss. I taste ice cream on him, and I imagine it is so with him._

_ "Mou, Gen-kun," I purr. "The ice cream's melting."_

_ "So? Let it," he growls in reply._

_ "Hmm? But I love ice cream. Especially if it's…yours." I give him once last kiss, then pull away grinning. And then I press my lips lightly to the ice cream, as if kissing it. I lean back and look up at him. "Want a taste?"_

_ "Yukimura a la mode," he says with a grin. "My favourite."_

_ The ice cream is forgotten as he licks and kisses away the creamy mess. The cone—and his hand—is dripping with melted ice cream by the time we remember._

I wake up in an instant—I'd jerk up in bed if I could, but I'm still not strong enough yet. I touch a trembling hand to my mouth. I can still feel his lips on mine. And as I lick dry lips, I find that I can taste the creamy vanilla.

Was that a memory? Or just wishful thinking?

My body doesn't ache much anymore, as it did when I first woke up, just over a week ago. But I _do_ still feel a twinge here and there if I move too fast, or twist the wrong way. The bruises have also faded. I was spotted as a Dalmatian when I first woke up. I still don't know what happened to me. No one wants to talk about it—not even Sanada. In fact, he seems to be the most adamant in not telling me. He's hiding something big from me.

I only wish I knew _what_.

"Seiichi?" I hear from the couch beside my bed. His voice is slurred with sleep. I don't know how he does that—know when I'm awake, that is.

"I had a dream," I whisper. "Or maybe it was a memory."

"A flashback?" I heard the rustling of fabric. I see slight movement—charcoal on midnight-raven—almost imperceptible. And then the mattress on one side of the bed dips. He lies next to me, and I roll into his waiting arms. He pulls the blanket over us and strokes my hair.

"Maybe." I hesitate. What if I sound stupid?

_Sanada__ would stab himself before ever laughing at me_. It is something that I know innately. I don't know how. Thoughts like this pop up every now and then.

"Vanilla ice cream," I finally say.

"What?"

"You bought a vanilla cone, and I was stealing some of it."

He brushes his lips over my forehead. "A memory, not a dream," he tells me. "A sweet memory."

"It was hot that day," I recall, speaking to myself. He seems to know this, and does not intrude. "We were walking back…from practice? You were helping my carry my tennis bag, even after I assured you that I was fine. Sometimes you make me feel so fragile…"

I bury my face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent. "I never really liked vanilla until then, you know, too bland." His fingers draw swirling patterns on my back, and then one slowly glides down to my hip, fingers gently caressing, languidly teasing. "You made it taste so sweet." My breath hitches as his fingertips trail down the ridge of bone towards the junction of my legs.

"Genichirou!" I moan as he strokes lightly. I thrust against his hand, silently urging him on.

"You've always been so sensitive to sensation," he whispers in my ear. "You react so strongly to the lightest touch." He punctuates his last few words with his fingers making slight fluttering movements.

I arch my head back from the erotic tickling. I have no idea why it feels so good. "Only your touch," I murmur back. "Only you make me feel this way."

He carefully pushes the pyjama pants down my hips, taking great care not to press down on one of the lingering bruises there. Then he flutters his fingertips over my belly, dipping into my navel, brushing butterfly caresses downwards…only to sweep up again.

"Gen-kun…" I complain. He chuckles darkly, the sound like molten chocolate poured over my nerves. I go rock hard from that sound alone. He gives me tiny biting kisses, gently nipping at my lower lip. He distracts me, then envelopes me in his warm grip. I gasp, and he takes sweet advantage of my parted lips.

His kiss is fierce, unyielding, almost forceful—I can feel him holding back—but he never forgets that I have yet to fully recover from my injuries, and beneath all that hard strength, his touch is tender. He milks me, plunders my mouth, and I am happy to lie there and let him have his way with me. And as his hand speeds up and his kisses grow deeper and harder, I feel that familiar tension coiling in my body. It's like a spring, wound tight and just waiting to be let free.

It takes just one slow, slick caress to send me over the edge, and I come crying his name. He milks every last shudder from my body, then wipes us clean with a towel from the bathroom. He holds me to him, with me spooned up comfortably against him, and I can feel that he's every bit as aroused as I was.

"Gen-kun," I murmur sleepily. "You're still…"

"Hard?" He nuzzles the back of my head. "I can wait."

"You don't _have_ to…" I rub back against him. "You _really_ don't have to…" I purr.

He presses a soft kiss to my hair. "When I come, Seiichi, it will be inside you, with you _screaming_ my name," he promises darkly.

I moan at the thought, shuddering with anticipation. "Then what are you waiting for?"

"I want to take you hard, and fast, and rough, Seiichi." He hugs me from behind. "I can wait."

"_I_ can't. I don't want to." I squirm slightly, rubbing myself against that hard heat of him. I hear his breath hitch and smile slyly. I slow down a bit, movements more languid. "Why won't you make love to me, Gen-kun?"

His teeth scrape the edge of my ear. "Because I play rough, Seiichi. I might hurt you if we try anything now. Get better, get stronger, Seiichi. I promise I'll make it all worth it." He sucks at the slight depression just below my ear, and occasionally, I feel the graze of teeth.

"Mm, when you put it that way…" I _do_ feel really sleepy now. I doubt I could stay awake long enough if anything _did_ happen, so maybe it's better that I regain my strength. Rough, Sanada? Somehow, something in the back of my mind tells me that I can be just as rough, occasionally more so.

We'll see.

"Hold me until I fall asleep, Gen-kun," I whisper. It feels so comforting to be held by him. He makes me feel so at ease.

"I won't let you go," he promises. "Sleep now, and dream of us."

I already feel myself drifting further and further into slumber. His voice is already a distant rumble that I feel, more than actually hear. "I always do," I reply, just before taking that final step into unconsciousness.

A/N: this was supposed to be a very short one-shot, but as I typed, a storyline created itself (damn, those sneaky plot bunnies…) and it somehow turned long and to-be-chaptered. Why does this keep happening to me? I haven't typed in POV format in a _looong_ time… () I love sanayuki. Sanayuki is _sooo_ love…


	2. chapter two

It hurts to walk. I've been immobile for so long that my joints are stiff. And when I _do_ stand, my legs feel so shaky, like they're going to fall out from under me. This pathetic creature that I am, _I_ used to be team captain of the tennis club? You've got to be kidding me. I scowl at myself, but then Sanada is there, and he takes my hand, takes some of the weight off my feet. Without saying a word, he lends me comfort. There's a look in his eyes that tell me that I _am_ strong, no matter what I think. There is a sudden knowledge that I have defeated him in a tennis match—many matches, in fact—and a strange sense of wonderment washes over me.

_I beat this man? This tall, strong guy beside me, helping my walk; _I_ beat him in a tennis match?_ It is incredible, unbelievable. I look at him, not saying anything, not knowing, really, what to say. But he knows. He _knows_.

"One step at a time, remember, Seiichi?" He reminds me. I wasn't born with my tennis skills. Just my talent. Likewise now, I'm weak as a kitten, but that doesn't mean that I can't become strong again.

I smile at him—he is my world. "Thank you," I say, not knowing just how to express my profound gratitude for his just being here. And I know that he understands it all.

He brings me out to the rooftop garden, telling me how I used to go there everyday when I was hospitalized for an illness. And then he tells me that I recovered from it only a few months ago. If I've recovered from that, then I can't possibly be in due to a relapse. He'd tell me if that was the case.

I ask him again—I asked him the same thing yesterday, but he changed the topic immediately—how I came to be in the hospital _this_ time, what happened to make me lose my memory. He doesn't look me in the eye. Instead, he comments about how lovely the weather is, and if I'd like to have lunch out here today. Suddenly, he sounds like a stranger. That flat tone of his voice scares me. He sounds emotionless, I know deep inside me that he isn't—is _never_.

"Sanada, why won't you tell me?"

"It's not important. You don't have to know."

I clench my fists, beginning to get angry. But I put my temper under control and try again. "I want to remember my past, Sanada. It's important to _me_."

"I don't want you remembering that, Seiichi. You don't have to remember. It's better that you don't."

And I lose it. Completely.

"How _dare_ you tell me what is and what isn't important to me! _You're_ not the one with the blank space where your life used to be! Do you have any idea what it's like not to know when your birthday is, how you celebrated your last one? I can't remember who my closest friend was, whether I kept a diary, if there were major secrets that I never told anybody… All that I know comes from _you_, and now you tell me that you're _filtering_ what you want me to remember!"

I stand up shakily and push aside the hand he offers me as he stands up beside me. My eyes are filled with furious tears, my head is whirling with confusion and apprehension. Who, really, is this guy who tells me that I am his heart? He is but a blur of dark tones and tan as the tears overflow and trickle down my cheeks. He touches my shoulder gently, but that once-reassuring touch now seems foreign and cold. I shake his hand off and try to flee. I try to run, but my traitorous legs buckle after only a handful of steps, and I fall to the ground with a cry of alarm.

The ground rushes towards me.

And somehow, I find it all so familiar… The wind blowing past, blowing upwards, then ground coming closer and closer… I close my eyes. I barely even feel his arms when they catch me a moment before I would have hit the concrete.

He doesn't visit me as frequently as before now. I don't know if it's because terror leaps into my heart whenever he does and that he knows it, or if he's simply lost interest in me now that I've rejected his company.

He scares me now.

It doesn't matter that I still dream of him every night when I sleep. It doesn't matter that when I dream, it's as if I'd never lost my memory. What _does_ matter is that I know that he's hiding truths from me—truths that I know could be crucial to me regaining my memory. He's afraid of something, he's afraid that if I remember what he doesn't want me to know, that I'll never forgive him. And he doesn't trust me enough to let me decide for myself. The truth of that hurts.

He doesn't trust me enough.

The warmth had fled from my room. It was cold when I woke, but then he brought the sunlight and the joy inside. And now it's cold all over again. I shiver, and pull the blankets tighter around me. The loneliness is almost tangible. I can almost see it as a frost, creeping over the windows and blocking out the light, it's like a vacuum that sucks the warmth and the life out of the room. I fish my hands in the simple blanket.

_Gen-kun_, I think as tears well up in my eyes. _I miss you. I'm terrified of you, but I still miss you. Why can't you just trust me a little? I need your trust. _I feel one tear splash on the back of one hand and I wipe it away fiercely. _I need _you_, Gen-kun._

I sit there in that same position while the sun is high up in the sky, lighting up all the world except mine, I am still sitting there like that when the light starts to wane, and the outside reflects more of what my life feels like. I don't notice the tray of food that has gone cold, nor the nurses that come in and cluck over the untouched food. Night comes, and I am still seated in bed, staring out the window.

_The moon isn't as bright as it used to be…_

I see in shades of grey. It's true, you know, that life can become colourless. It doesn't matter that the sky is cornflower blue, it doesn't matter that the flowers in the vase are brilliant shades of red and orange. I doesn't even matter that the sports jacket draped over the back of one chair is deep chrome yellow. All these colours don't mean a thing to me if I don't even feel life.

I see in shades of grey.

Someone knocks on the door, but I barely hear it. I dismiss it as a polite nurse, I don't even turn towards the sound. I continue staring outside the window like I have for the past half a week. It's so bright outside that it kind of hurts my eyes, but I don't turn away. The tears help dim it a bit, though. I can't understand how the world can look so bright when I'm dead inside. I remember no more of my life than I did a week ago. I realise just how much I learnt just sitting beside Sanada, it seemed so easy to remember when he held me in his arms and whispered to me in the heart of midnight.

He's gone now, though, it seems so long ago that I last saw him, even though my brain tells me that it's been only five days.

I hear the sound of children playing in the playground below, the laughter and joyous shouts drift through the window like wraiths. I've forgotten how it felt like to laugh so freely. I can't remember the last time I laughed like that, without a care in the world. I can't remember the taste of cotton candy, or the smell of the ocean. I've forgotten what it feels like to see the first cherry blossom of spring. All those memories are gone, and nothing seems to be bringing them back. I suppose the fact that I'm barely even existing doesn't help much.

I'm so deep in my thoughts that I don't hear the scrape of the plastic chair. And then I feel the contours of the mattress shift slightly. It must be a nurse coming to try to make me eat again. I'm sick of food. I'm not hungry, _I_ _don't feel like eating! _I wish they would all just leave me alone. If my life is going to be lonely then, by God, it's going to be _entirely_ lonely. I don't want anybody coming near me anymore.

There only one person I want by my side, but he stopped visiting an eternity ago.

"Yukimura, you're starving yourself," a gentle voice says.

That voice is familiar, and at the same time, a total stranger to me. I knew it a lifetime ago. His name…I once knew him well enough to consider him almost a brother. But those days have passed, and I can't even remember his name anymore.

"Yukimura, they're worried about how fast you're losing weight. You _have_ to eat something."

Food tastes like dust in my mouth. What little they manage to force into my mouth is tasteless and bland. I remember he snuck in a donut for me once I was able to sit up. It was two days before I screamed at him and he gradually stopped visiting. Oh, kami-sama…how I miss him. I squeeze my eyes shut and turn my face to my covered lap. A warm hand wipes the tears away and comforting arms draw me in a tender hug.

He smells of notebook paper and ink. The scent is dry and comforting. There is something very familiar about the smells. There is an underlying odour of old tennis balls and the perfume of sunlight. I cry against his chest, my shoulders heaving, as I try to tell him what is wrong. I think he gets it, but barely so. No one understands me so much—and so little—as the one I long for. When I tire myself out with crying, he tucks me back into bed, pulls the blankets up to my chin. I feel like a child all over again.

That is, if I could remember my childhood.

"I know it's not me that you want to see, but I'll drop by again tomorrow anyway, okay?"

I don't reply. I stopped responding to external stimuli days ago. It's not worth it. Besides, what's the point? _He's_ not here for me to respond to. These days, all I do is stare and think and blink. And even then, it's only because my eyes are dry.

He bends down and presses a gentle kiss to my cheek. "I'll try and make it better, Yukimura. I promise."

He walks towards the door, then pauses and turns around. He gives me a quick once-over, as if to make sure I'm fine, then leaves with a whispered goodbye.

Promises are fleeting, so his don't mean a thing to me. But I wish it did. I know I used to be so trusting. What happened to me? What changed?

I've forgotten.

The darkness comes to claim me, and I drift away to sleep. As I sleep, my heart finds peace once more, and I leave consciousness with a faint smile. Sanada reaches out for me and I clasp his hands in mine. And he pulls me deeper until I dream.

Someone has opened my curtains. I've made them leave it closed for the past two days because I can no longer bear to see the sunlight. It reminds me of what I can never have. But now the light is shining strongly in my face. I grimace, the most emotion that I've expressed in a week. I reach up weakly to shield my eyes. My hand feels so leaden… It feels like someone has stolen inside in the middle of the night and tied weights to my limbs, my body. My arm falls back limply against the bed. I choose to turn away from the window instead.

And then the light dims a bit, but not totally. I sigh in relief and let my hand slid off my face. I'm so tired…

I feel someone help me into a sitting position, supported by pillows on either side. My head falls to one side; I'm too tired to support my head on my own. I don't even think I have the energy to open my eyes. And even if I did, why bother? I'll just spend my day staring into blank space, ignoring everyone. It's better if I just stay like this, frozen in stasis.

A rough thumb caresses my lower lip slightly. I part my lips ever so slightly. This feels like a dream, have I fallen asleep again? I probably have. I smile and sigh his name.

"I wish you didn't just visit me in dreams, Gen-kun…"

Something metallic probes my partially-opened mouth, and my brow furrows. I turn my head aside. What is happening to my dream? My dreams are always pleasant! Nobody forces me to do anything that I don't want to. The intrusion isn't harsh, the metal doesn't clink painfully against my teeth like it sometimes does, but the pressure is insistent nonetheless.

I force myself to open my eyes, to escape the dream that has turned nightmare.

My eyes are still blurry with sleep and disuse, and I don't see much. I don't want to. I turn my head away from the spoon. I hear a 'clank' that signals that whoever it is who is trying to make me eat has given up. Good. Perhaps _now_ they will leave me in peace. Someone is speaking in the background. Probably the doctors and nurses again. I wish they'd leave.

There is a hesitant brush of fingers against my hair, against my cheek. I sigh softly, wanting so badly for it to be Sanada. "Gen-kun…" _If only…_

And then once again, I feel myself being shifted around. I begin to protest, but then I'm lifted off the bed entirely. Someone is carrying me. Someone strong and warm. He smells of sunshine and the outdoors. He smells like Sanada.

But that's probably just wishful thinking.

But why not indulge myself one last time? Who knows how much longer I'll last like this? I haven't eaten in days, and I'm still not hungry. I know they think I'm starving myself, but honestly, I'm just not hungry.

I lean into that strong chest, listen to that rhythmic heartbeat. It's lulling me to sleep again…

One finger presses against my lips. I lick them.

It's sweet.

I feel that roughened fingertip once more and lick at the sweetness coating it. Next comes something light and fluffy. It's sweet… I open my mouth just enough for him to slip it in, then I chew slowly. It feels like heaven blooming inside me; a slow warmth spreads inside me. I accept another morsel, and another, and finally, I'm eating steadily.

I'm suddenly ravenous.

Then he presses the rim of a bowl to my lips. I can feel the fragrant steam rising from the liquid inside. It smells vaguely herbal, but not unpleasantly so. He tilts it until warm soup laps gently against my upper lip. I take a small sip and swallow the minute bit of soup. It leaves a trail of soothing warmth down my parched throat. I take a larger swallow of soup, and before long, the bowl is empty. I still feel hungry, but the food is no longer forthcoming. But after a moment, I realize just how full I feel. Perhaps it's a good thing there wasn't anymore for me to eat. I blink sleepily, like a kitten after its first bowl of cream, and curl closer to that soothing heartbeat.

I don't fall asleep, but sort of remain in a sated daze.

"Thank you, Renji," I hear someone say. It sounds like Sanada. But then again, recently, every other person has sounded like Sanada. And after the first few times, I just stopped hoping.

"Thank _you_, Genichirou. It's _you_ whom he needs, not anyone else."

_…it's him? _No, it _can't _be. Can it? I open my eyes a faint crack, not daring to hope.

"He's coming round. I'll leave now."

The door shuts with a muted 'click', and I look upwards, unconsciously holding my breath. His name escapes in a tearful puff of air.

"Gen-kun…" I bury my face in his shirt, clutching handfuls of the fabric. I can't let go. He's my anchor. If I let go, I'll drift away and I'll never find land ever again. I don't want to be lost all over again. He strokes my hair like a parent soothing a child who has been waiting for what seems like eternity at the Lost and Found corner of a shopping complex.

"I'm sorry, Seiichi." His arms wrap around me like he never wants to let me go either. He kisses the crown of my head. I wince, realizing that I must smell to high heaven. I haven't had a real shower in a week. All those sponge baths given by the nurses do _not_ count.

"I smell horrible," I blurt out, voice thick with tears. "And I look just as bad."

I can feel his amused smile. "No, you smell like you always do, and you always remind me of a field of wildflowers. You look like you usually do, and you're always beautiful. You're fine, Seiichi."

"Thank you for the donut," I say in a meek voice. "And the soup."

His voice is grave but tender and sad at the same time. "You scared me, Seiichi. Renji came to me and told me that you hadn't eaten in nearly a week. All they could give you were liquid nutrients through an intravenous tube. They said you were starving yourself, and kami-sama help me, I almost got a heart attack."

"I didn't mean to," I tell him, sounding faintly like a chastised child. "I wasn't hungry. I didn't feel like eating."

"Hospital food tastes horrible anyway, doesn't it?"

I grimace. "Salt-less, sugarless, fatless, and utterly tasteless."

"I know. I remember helping you eat up your leftovers the last time." He hugs me closer until there is no space between out bodies. "Don't say it, Seiichi. I can't tell you. I'm not ready to tell you yet." He takes a deep breath, like a diver getting ready for the plunge. "Give me some time…please?"

"Okay," I agree. "As long as you tell me, one of these days."

He breathes out in a sigh of relief. "I promise."

"Don't let me go," I plead, when he stands up, with me still in his arms. "I missed you so much…"

"I want to bring you out in the sun." He turns me towards the partially covered windows. "It's a beautiful day today."

I smile up at him.

"Yes, it is."

He visits everyday now, like he used to. My appetite has returned, although I'm amazed at how much weight I lost. At the end of that miserable week, you could count all my ribs! Sanada makes sure I eat, though. And every time he visits, he brings me a different pastry or dessert. The last one was a cream puff. It's about the time that school ends, and he should be by in about half an hour or so.

I rise from the stone bench on the rooftop garden. My strength has returned, and I walk regularly now, without assistance. They'll allow me light exercise depending on the results of the physical examination at the end of the week, when they discharge me. I'll have to return for follow-up treatments and all that nonsense, but as an out-patient. They want me to rest for another day after that, following which, I can return to school.

Did I mention how petrified I am at the thought of attending school?

Strangely enough, I can remember my academics perfectly fine. Ask me to equate algebraic equations and I can give you a perfect answer. Ask me to react two chemicals together and I can give you not only the product, but its colour and odour—if any—and write down the chemical equation.

But ask me who my History teacher is and I'm lost. I'm terrified to the bottom of my soul at the prospect of attending school once more.

But Sanada will be there. The school has agreed to let Sanada follow my in all my classes until I readapt to school life once more. And after then, they'll station at least one team member in my classes for another month or so.

And then I'm on my own.

I bend low and sniff at one pale pink bloom. I'll manage. I'll manage until I get my memory back. I don't dare think about what I'll do if I never regain my memory. I can only hope that something will trigger it to return. Or that Sanada will love me regardless. He is my only safe harbour in this raging storm of confusion. I stroke the silky petal with one fingertip. It's so beautiful. The colours, the textures… Life is so beautiful.

I tuck one errant lock of curling hair behind my ear as I lean lower to examine one particularly lovely flower. It's tiny, with minute white petals and deep purple striations radiating from its core. From further away, it looks like a miniature orchid, but at this close distance, I can tell the difference. It's no orchid. In fact, it's a common weed. But it's beautiful; a small, perfect miracle of nature.

Sinewy arms pull me back into a hard chest and I laugh.

"Gen-kun!"

He tilts my chin up until I'm looking up directly into his eyes. He lowers his head and kisses me, and my eyes flutter shut. The hand cupping my face drops back down to hold me against him. His kiss is slow and deep. His kiss alone makes me moan his name. I feel his arms tighten around me and I reach up and drape my wrists at the back of his neck. I break the kiss, my breath coming in soft pants as I stare up at him.

"Mm, what do I get today?"

"What makes you think I brought you anything today?" He asks, poker-faced. But I see through it with as much ease as a knife through hot butter.

I pout with feigned disappointment and before I can say another word, he kisses me again. This kiss is different. His mouth is demanding, teasing and mock-punishing. He plunders my mouth with expert ease. I let him have his way with me. This time. Something in me tells me that I don't always. But sometimes it's a welcome change to be mastered, and control isn't always everything.

Then again, ultimately it's the uke who controls it all. He allows his seme to take him, he allows everything that is done to him. And in a truly loving relationship, he can stop everything at any time. The uke holds the strings to the puppet that is the relationship.

I can't wait to go home. To get him in a locked room.

He promised to make me scream.

When he finally releases me, I look like I've been eating a basketful of berries. I give him a sloe-eyed smile and lick my lips. He gulps and glares at me, but I can see the amusement and lust and love shimmering in his dark eyes.

"You're just _asking_ for it, aren't you?" He tousles my hair with a small smile.

"Hmm? Asking for what, Gen-kun?" I let my hands fall from his neck. They wander down his sides, fingers tracing the ridges of bone and lean muscle. I twitch my butt against his groin and watch his pupils dilate. "Tell you what, Gen-kun. You can walk me back to my room and give me my present, and I'll give you a little…gift."

Sanada rolls his eyes and sighs with exasperation. "Can't you wait until you're discharged from hospital first?"

"But that's all the way at the end of the week."

"You're so frisky, at this rate, I'm going to have to tie you to your bed to keep you from jumping me."

I smirk and present my wrists to him. "Mm, you can tie me up _anytime_, Gen-kun."

"I know how your mind works, Seiichi. You're waiting until Friday. I'll bring you home, and you'll spend some time with your family, and you can stay the night at my house. And then we'll see."

I stick my tongue out at him. "Fine, your wish is my command."

He seems surprised that I've let him off so easily. It seems that memory-loss or not, I'll always love playing with him. He's so fun to tease. I let him think that I've given up. It's never wise to show your cards too early, after all.

We return to my room, and once I'm seated cross-legged on the bed, he presents me with my daily sweet. I peer curiously into the small slit at the top of the creamy-white pastry box. I sniff it.

"Mm, smells good…"

I open one side, and then the other, and I let the remaining ends fall apart. There's a slice of black-forest cake sitting in the middle of the box. I have no idea how he managed to make it stay right in the middle, especially in his bag, while he was kissing me. Sanada is amazing, isn't he?

I run a finger through the cream on top and offer it to him.

"Have a taste, Gen-kun!"

He licks the cream off and sucks my finger clean. His eyes never leave mine for a second. I grow light-headed and shiver. He knows what that intense look does to me. I grab the little plastic fork that comes with the cake and cut a small chunk off. Again, I offer it to him, but he declines.

"I love to watch you eat, Seiichi."

"I'm getting fat!"

He chuckles. "You? Fat? Never. You could eat as much as Marui does and you somehow wouldn't gain an ounce."

"I _am_ getting fat!" I poke at my belly. "See?"

He gently prods near my navel, then runs his finger down to the crotch of my pyjamas. I groans with need, but he smirks at me. "I know you _very_ well, Seiichi," he murmurs. "Now eat your cake."

I pout at him, but the lure of chocolate and cherries is too much to resist, and I pop the chunk of cake into my mouth. The taste spreads across my tongue and fill up my mouth with the taste of bitter chocolate and cherry liquor. I finish half the slice before grinning sheepishly up at him. "You've turned me into such a pig. A dessert everyday."

"You're still looking a bit on the thin side. Besides, I know you love your desserts. You just hide it better than Marui does." He leans over and licks a bit of chocolate cream from the corner of my mouth. "Mm, sweet. Tastes like…you."

"Flatterer." I cut off another chunk and offer it to him again. "I've had half the cake."

"Fine." He eats from the fork in my hand. We share the remaining cake. There is something sublimely fulfilling about the simple sharing of cake. I feed him some, he feeds me some, and then when all the cake is gone, he puts the box and fork on the small table and kisses me soundly.

The taste of chocolate and cherries is everywhere. I can even smell it in the room, it's like we're in a bakery. I suck in a deep breath and continue kissing him. I sink my fingers into his hair. Likewise, I feel his hands in mine, fingers tangling my waves. We seem to love each other's hair. I lean forward until my body weight is resting almost entirely on him. And then I give a little push.

He falls back with a muffled squawk of surprise. I pin him down with the weight of my body—which actually isn't really substantial next to his—but that, as well as the shock, is enough. Fingers nimble, I undo the buttons on his school shirt. And when almost all the buttons are undone, I hastily push the edges of his shirt aside. It's been so long since I was able to run my hands all over him. I yank the shirt down his shoulders. There is no way his hands are getting free unless he throws me off him. And that certainly isn't happening.

I dip my head and suckle on dusky nipple, my hair tickles him, I know, because I hear him chuckle after his cry of my name wanes. I scrape at the sensitive skin there with my teeth. His moan is a long, low, keening that I feel more than actually hear. It rumbles through his chest and into my body. I feel it almost as intently as he does. His other nipple begs for my attention; it is already erect and waiting more me to lavish my attention upon it. Who am I to refuse?

He arches his back, sock-clad heels digging into the bed. The muscles in his arms flex, but he's not going to rip his shirt. He had more control than that. I stroke my fingers along the sinew and long, lean muscles in his arms.

I can feel him prodding against my belly. He's been wanting me for a long time, now, but he wanted to wait a little longer. Well, too bad, Sanada, _I_ don't. I nip gently, and he moans my name again. His body is shuddering ever so slightly. The rush I feel, having this wonderful specimen of youthful masculinity below me, knowing that I'm making him tremble. It's intoxicating.

"I'm drunk on you, Gen-kun," I breath, blowing on his spit-slick nipple. He shivers from the cold sensation. "I feel like my head's in the clouds."

I reach down and undo the buckle of his belt. I whip it free of the belt loops and haphazardly dump it on the bed. His button is the next item on my list. I slip it through the buttonhole and eagerly pull down the zipper. I press down against him as I do so. He trembles again, like a leaf in a breeze, and I know he feels the rasp of metallic teeth. I nibble on his lower lip as I part the edges of his fly. The front of his cotton boxers is already damp. I stroke gently, lovingly, teasing him with butterfly caresses.

"Already wet with wanting me, Gen-kun?" I purr. His jaw is clenched stubbornly and he doesn't reply. Not that he has to.

I shimmy my pyjama pants off. That's the lovely thing about hospital clothes—they're so easy to remove. I straddle him, then proceed to remove the top half of my pyjamas. I've been longing to feel his skin against mine. I glide against him and sigh with contentment. This is what I've been missing. This is what my body has been crying out for.

I free him from the constraints of his underwear, then rub myself against him. He feels _so_ good… My hand urges him on, growing slick and sticky.

"I've missed this so much… I don't know how or why, but I remember the feel of your body, Gen-kun."

His only reply is a happy moan when friction sends frissons of pleasure rocketing through his body. I reach back, not quite knowing what I'm doing, at the same time, trusting myself to operate on autopilot. I open myself up for him, the act somehow familiar. My fingers are dripping with pre-come, but I don't that's going to be enough.

I fumble for my discarded pants, glad I didn't go along with my initial desire to hurl my clothes to the far side of the room. I pull out a plastic tube and see his eyes grow wide with realization.

"My sneaky little buchou," he growls. "You planned this, didn't you?"

"I'm not sure why myself, but I found this hidden in the toilet. I decided that it could be put to better use." When I'm properly prepared, I position myself above him. But before I can lower myself onto him, he grabs my hips and plunges deep into me.

"Genichirou!" I cry out in partial pain and pleasure. He pauses for a moment for me to get comfortable, and while I squirm in his firm grip, I wonder how he managed to get his arms free. He feels my death grip on his arms relax, and thrusts slowly into me. I know he'll never hurt me. One hand stays on my hip, while the other wanders God-knows-where. And then I feel my arms tugged behind me, and then the sensation of leather around my wrists.

_Oh, kami-sama. _I almost faint.

I have no idea how he's doing it, but he managing to fuck me _and_ restrain my hands at the same time. Is he talented or what? It should be impossible, but he's doing it. I should have thrown his belt off the bed when I had the chance. I feel the leather tighten, and I test the bonds. Like I needed to try. The sensations seem to amplify with my loss of freedom of my arms.

Lighting streaks through my body and I _do_ almost scream his name like he promised. "Oh, kami-sama," I gasp.

His thrusts speed up, but he is always conscious of my hurts—which have all but vanished from sight anyway. "Gen-kun," I moan. "Let me, please?"

I don't have to elaborate further—he knows what I want. He slowly goes still, and his grip loosens. He guides me, keeps me steady while I ride him. I throw my head back, exposing my throat, and I hear him growl my name.

His name is a chant on my lips as I move faster and faster, impaling myself upon him. When I come, it is as he promised, with me crying out his name, my voice a sobbing scream. At the same time, I tighten my muscles, clenching him in hot, wet heat. I refuse to come alone.

_ Give yourself to me, Genichirou._

He hisses out my name from between clenched teeth, and I feel him come inside me in pulsing jets of scalding heat. I'm frozen for a moment, And then I collapse into his waiting arms. I lose track of how long I stay sprawled on him, lying bonelessly, unable to move, while he whispers into my ear. I feel his hands tangled in my hair and wonder how he can find the energy to move.

I make a small sound of protest when he stops playing with my hair, but he simply shushes me with a short kiss. And then I feel his arms reach around me. The leather loosens, and then is gone. His warm hands replace them, strong fingers gently massaging my wrists.

"Mm, that's nice," I sigh. "I remember this. I remember falling asleep on you…" I nuzzle his neck. "You're so comfortable…"

"I wish I could spirit you away, take you back home to my house. Or yours, I'm particularly picky about that." He yawns.

"Hmm, I'm too tired to do anything. I think I'll take a nap." I shut my eyes.

"Leave me to clean your mess up, why don't you?" But there is no venom in his voice, and his movements are careful as he eases me off him. I hear the sound of running water coming from the toilet, then silence. I feel something warm and damp bathing my nether regions, the lower half of my torso.

"Sleep beside me, Gen-kun."

"Let me deal with the clean-up first. I'd rather not have to deal with speculative glances from the nurses every time I visit."

I give him a sleepy smile. "It's not like I'm staying here for that much longer."

There's the sound of running water again, and voice has a muffled, echoing quality to it, like it's coming from inside the toilet with the door closed. And then it's clear once more and getting closer. I know he's beside me even before he crawls beneath the blanket to lie by my side.

"You'll catch a cold, sleeping naked like that," he tells me, but I notice that he's wearing just as much as I am.

"Than you'll just have to keep me warm, ne, Gen-kun?"

He chuckles and spoons me up against him. I'm too worn out to tease him further, and he knows it. He strokes my thigh, the action both soothing and arousing. "I'll keep you warm, Seiichi. Rest now, go to sleep." He kisses my hair lightly. "I might be gone by the time you wake up, but you know I'll be here again tomorrow."

"Bring me something nice again?"

He grins. "Only if you're a good boy, Seiichi."

Well, perhaps I have a _little_ bit of energy left. I squirm against him and turn my body enough to look at him. My smile is coy as I purr, "Oh, I can be _very_ good, Gen-kun. Wanna see?"

He gives me an exasperated look and turns me back so that I'm leaning back into him again. "I _know_ you can, Seiichi. But try to save that for when I can wake up with you sleeping next to me."

He strokes my hair rhythmically, knowing that it will eventually put me to sleep. The last things I hear before I succumb to the siren call of slumber are the tenderly whispered words, "Aishiteru, Seiichi".

_I love you too, Genichirou._

A/N: I tried to tone down this version, or else it would have been up yesterday. Somehow, I don't think I deviated much from the original content at all. I give up. I suck at retyping. Well, in case reading the original strikes your fancy, it's up on my site. But I still want reviews. () The original isn't much different from this, really. But go to my site all the same. It's pretty bare, but you might find something interesting. Or not. Whatever.


	3. chapter three

I can leave tomorrow. Everything looks good, so far. All the test results have returned, and the doctors have given me a promising prognosis. The chances of me recovering most of my memory are high. All my injuries have healed, and they were actually quite surprised how fast I was healing. I'd been so sick just a little over six months before due to my illness that they thought they'd have to keep me hospitalized longer.

Sanada said he'd bring the team over after practice today. I'll be meeting them for the first time. At least, it feels that way. They're already on their way. I'm nervous, fidgeting as I attempt to read a book. I realise, after a moment, that I've been staring at the same page for over five minutes. And then I realise a moment later that I'm holding the book upside-down. I mark my page with a bookmark made by one of the other kids in the hospital—some of them know me, but I don't remember them (they were rather upset until a passing nurse explained to them my condition)—and try to focus my mind a little.

I place the book on my side table and look out the window. I try to recall their faces, but nothing comes to mind. Sanada told me their names, but their names are simply words to me, with no real meaning. I vaguely remember someone with short, dark-brown hair and eyes that are always seemingly shut. But I remember that only because he visited when I was depressed. And even so, I don't recall his image very well, since I wasn't really interested in much at all, then.

How will they react when they see me? Will they like me? And will they still want me to remain their team captain? I'm not even sure if I remember how to play tennis. What use is a team captain who can't play that team's sport?

_Oh, kami-sama…what if they hate me for failing them?_

I look down at my hands. They're faintly callused. But only barely. I stopped playing tennis for quite awhile, apparently, while I was ill. And when I finally recovered, within a few months, I landed back in hospital. With the amount my parents have spent on my treatments and fees, they should name a new wing after me.

_They're on their way now…_

I squirm for a few more minutes, then get frustrated. This is getting ridiculous! I cover my face with one hand and close my eyes, trying to gather some semblance of patience and whatever a buchou should be made of.

I sigh. _This is _not_ working._ Maybe if I sleep, time will pass faster. Hey, maybe I'll wake up with my memory fully intact. _Yeah, keep dreaming, Seiichi_. It's worth a shot. Right now, I'll try _anything_.

I fluff up my pillow and lie back. I close my eyes. Sleep refuses to come. I try counting sheep, but after counting to ten, my thoughts go back to the team. I try counting backwards from a thousand; maybe the utter boredom will lull me to sleep. I only reach nine-hundred and sixty-five before my mind starts wandering again. This is so _stupid_!

I snarl in frustration at my pillow and pound it a few times before trying to fall asleep once more.

_Aishiteru__, Seiichi…_

Gen-kun… I smile. I heard him as I fell asleep that day. I've been dreaming only of him when I sleep. I'm so lucky that he's been there for me. I can't imagine what I would have been like, these few weeks, if he hadn't been there. I would have been totally alone. _Thank you so much for everything, Gen-kun._

I've been trying to memorize every aspect of his face, every nuance of his actions. If I never regain my memory, it wouldn't be too bad to have him fully in my mind. That way, I'd never forget him ever again. If only he was here to hold me…sleep would come so easily. I imagine his arms around me, fingers gently stroking my skin. He makes me feel so…loved. So cherished. _Aishiteru__, Seiichi._

_I love you too, Gen-kun. So much…_

It's the memories of him that send me to sleep. I feel his imaginary fingers stroking my hair as I slip away into sleep. I hear his voice, tenderly whispering sweet words as I approach the gates of dreams.

_So much…_

"Shh, he's _sleeping_!"

"But that cake looks so good… Can I have a tiny slice first? Please?"

"This cake is for Yukimura buchou. It gets cut only when he wakes up."

Those voices…I remember them, vaguely, in the recesses of my mind, they are familiar. The first is full of pure exasperation, chiding yet patient. The second is full of cheer and airy innocence, perhaps a bit of yearning…for cake? The last sounds annoyed, but just enough for the emotion to show through. He's not _really_ annoyed. But his patience _is_ wearing a bit thin.

I try to put faces, names to those voices. But I can't.

I already know who they are, rather who they're supposed to be. They're my team mates, the ones I know only by name because I can't even remember their faces.

"Marui, Kirihara, stop making so much noise!" That voice is the same as the first. "You'll wake him up!"

"But if he wakes up, you'll let me have cake, right?"

"Marui," says the third voice. "If you purposely wake buchou up just to get at the cake, I-"

I sigh. Those guys, they're always fighting like that.

"You're making too much noise," that worried voice hisses.

I blink sleepily, rubbing my eyes as I wake. That was a pleasant nap. A strange scene to wake up to, but the nap was nice, nonetheless. I stretch felinely, yawning as I feel the comfortable stretch of muscles and joints. I smile faintly and close my eyes again, settling on my side. I blink blearily at them.

"You brought me cake?"

"Buchou!" A boy with curly black hair leaps to his feet, pausing for a moment from his glaring match with a scowling redhead.

I blink several times in confusion as a cacophony of exclamations of "Yukimura" and "buchou" fills the room.

"Oh, stop it," a calm voice says, from the back of the room. He sounds so stern, but I can hear the amusement hidden in his voice.

I sit up with a smile of pure joy. "Genichirou."

His face is emotionless at first, but then he smiles. "How are you feeling, Seiichi?"

"Fine," I reply. "They'll be releasing me on schedule tomorrow morning." I see a faint smirk appear in his smile. He's thinking along the same lines as I am.

"That's good." He sits down beside me. "Yes, we've brought you a cake," he says, gesturing to the pristine white box held by the one with closed eyes. I remember him faintly from the previous time he came to visit me.

"One whole cake?" I grin. "That's a big leap from the single slices you've been bringing me each day."

"We had to consider the fact that we brought Marui along with us."

I turn to look at the owner of this new voice. He has pale, spiky hair, and his eyes are shrewd. But there is a kindness in them, if you know where to look. I tilt my head to one side. I know this guy. He's very familiar, and that tilt to his jaw, the wildness of his hair… A single name comes to mind, and I just pluck it from the emptiness.

"Ni…ou?" I say, uncertainly.

The gentleness that hides deep inside him comes to the surface for a brief moment as he smiles. "Yeah, that's me." He winks at me. "You'll be alright, I think, Yukimura."

"Maybe," I reply in a soft whisper. "I hope so…"

The redhead bounds over. "Yukimura!" He exclaims with glee. "You're awake!" He points at a dark-skinned teen standing near the back of the group. "Jackal refused to let me have any cake! He even made Yanagi hold it so that I couldn't reach it!" He sits down beside me, effectively sandwiching me between himself and Sanada. "Ne, buchou, now that you're awake, I can have some cake, right?"

Now that he's beside me and rambling on about desserts and popping his gum, it comes back to me suddenly. I know who he is. I know his name, and it fits with his face. It's like a piece of jigsaw has appeared in front of me and I place it beside another piece and it fits just right.

"Bunta," I murmur with an amazed smile. "Marui."

"Buchou remembers me!" He gives me a big hug. "That means so much more than the cake!"

I pat his back. "But you still want some, don't you?"

He grins at me. "What do you think?"

I laugh. I look over at the guy with the cake box. He notices my glance and walks to me with a knowing smile. He holds out the box to me.

"Thank you, Renji," I say. "For everything." _For Sanada._

He smiles again, and I know that he gets what I mean. "You don't have to thank me, Seiichi. I'm glad you're feeling better now."

"Let's let Marui have some cake now, ne?" I take the box and open it up. It's a marbled chocolate cake dripping with fruits. "It's beautiful…"

"Like buchou, ne?" Marui points at one section. "Can I have a slice with some strawberries?"

"Sure." I'm not sure how much cake he wants, but before I can ask, my hand moves on its own. I slice out about a fifth of the cake. "There, all the strawberries for you, Bunta."

There is a bright smile on his face. It seems that I've remembered something he never before thought important but is suddenly significant. "You…like strawberries. Do I remember that right?"

"Hai." He plucks one deep red berry off. "For you," he says with a shy smile.

Since I'm wielding the cake knife, I ask, "Who else wants cake?"

"Marui! You're such a pig! You've left us with so little!" Marui sticks his tongue out at the kid with the curly hair.

"Marui, stop baiting Kirihara," Jackal chides. _Mother-hen_. The word pops into my mind in a flash. I smile. I remember them. Jackal the keeper, and Kirihara is his charge.

"Ne, Akaya-kun, how much cake do you want?" I ask, holding out the cake and tilting the box ever so slightly for him to see.

"Buchou! I didn't mean to imply-"

I grin and shake my head. "It's alright, Kirihara. Which part would you like?"

He looks away, cheeks pink. "But there won't be enough for senpai-tachi."

He's so cute. On a whim, I make two cuts and remove a section with peaches on it. I place it on a disposable plate and walk over to him. His stares at me in stunned surprise.

"I can share a slice with Sanada," I tell him and place his hand on the plate. "I'd rather see all of you enjoy yourselves."

"Yukimura-buchou…"

"I hope you like peaches, Akaya-kun, I just…sort of…cut it." I give him a small shrug and an unsure smile.

"They're my favourite," he mumbles, the pink on his cheeks darkening. "Thank you, buchou."

I ruffle his hair, messing up those unruly black curls even more. There a feeling of satisfaction. I think I might have liked him a lot before I lost my memory. There's a wildness to him that irresistible. He's like a hyper-active and highly emotional puppy, reckless and untamed. He needs a proper keeper. He's too strong-willed for even Jackal to handle.

"You're very welcome."

Jackal politely refuses the cake, he's not one for something so sweet, he tells me, but is happy enough that I offered it to him. I give Renji the slice with just cake. I recall vaguely that he prefers his food quite plain. When I offer Niou cake, he gives me another wink and says that he'll share with Yagyuu. I glance at the bespectacled guy standing beside and just a bit behind him, then smile back at Niou. _Ah._ _So _that_ is how it is._

I divide the remaining cake into two portions and let them choose. Niou gives me a knowing look and leaves me the slice with cherries and raspberries. I return to Sanada's side.

"Ne, Gen-kun," I murmur. "Share the cake with me?" I cut off the tip of the triangular slice and offer it to him. He doesn't reply, but leans forward and eats off my fork.

"How is it?" I ask him, resisting the urge to lick the chocolaty smear at the corner of his mouth. I don't think that's the appropriate thing to do around my team members. I don't think Niou or Yagyuu would particularly care if I did so, but Sanada might be embarrassed. Something tells me he would. And then there'd be hell to pay during the next practice.

"Try some and you'll know, won't you, Seiichi?"

I glance discreetly at the others and notice that they are all very conveniently looking elsewhere. I lean over and lick the chocolate from his mouth. "Mm, _very_ nice, Gen-kun."

I see a faint blush stain his cheekbones and grin. "Who chose the cake?" I ask, popping a chunk of cake into my own mouth.

There is still a remaining trace of pink on his cheeks. There is a glint in his eyes that promises payback when we are alone, regardless of the fact that nobody else saw. _So they _do_ know. How…interesting._

"Marui pointed it out, and I saw no reason to turn down his suggestion," he replies with a small smile, and wipes away a bit of chocolate from my lower lip with a fingertip. I watch with heavy-lidded eyes as he licks the chocolate from his finger.

"Did he?" He nods with a small, secretive smile. "Mm, I'm suddenly feeling very tired, Gen-kun. Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?"

"Didn't you just wake up?" He asks me, suddenly sounding rather worried.

"Yes, but maybe it's just the cake. I don't know, I don't particularly care." I nudge his shoulder with my head. "Stay with me?"

For a moment, he allows himself to forget that the rest of the team is there, and he bends down to kiss my forehead. "Always," he whispers. I feel his lips moving over my skin.

"Sanada, we'll go first, since Yukimura wants to rest," Yanagi says. He turns to me and I happen to glance in his eyes.

He knows.

I grin back at him and wink. He replies with an almost imperceptible nod and begins herding the others out. He's not our data collector for nothing, I suppose, although I've forgotten how good he is at what he does.

I wave at the team as they leave the room. A part of me is overjoyed that they still think of me as their buchou, that they still respect me, that they still love me. But there is also another part that is glad that they've gone. I suppose I do miss them, but they're still so…foreign to me. To me, they're still strangers. The door shuts with a soft 'click' and now that they're all gone, save Sanada, I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I sigh and slump against Sanada.

"Seiichi?"

"I'm okay, Gen-kun. I'm just…" I give a small laugh. "You _do_ realise that this was a small ruse to get them out, right?" I shut my eyes, face turned towards his. "Yanagi figured it out, although I'm not sure if you did. But now that we're alone…" I sigh again, and this time even I can hear the weariness. "Now that we've alone, I really _do_ feel drained."

"Drained? Seiichi, you're scaring me. Are you _sure_ you're okay?"

"They're all strangers to me, Gen-kun, even Yanagi. I feel that I should know all of them so much better. They came in with so many expectations and when I remembered only so much…it's like… I was so afraid that they would hate me, Gen-kun. That's why I tried my best not to think about you bringing them over. I tried everything, but I kept thinking about what would happen once they saw me like this. That's why I went to sleep. I had to stop thinking about it. And even then, I could only sleep after imagining your arms around me."

I bury my face in his shirt. "You're my only anchor in this storm, Genichirou. Without you, I'm lost. And that scares me so much. I feel better now that they're gone because I don't have to try and remember anything. You have no idea how much will-power it took to look them in the eyes and try not to flinch when they search your eyes for recognition."

"If I'd known that you felt so about seeing them, I would have postponed their visit until you'd regained more of your memory." He gathers me closer and strokes my hair comfortingly.

"No, it's something that I have to get used to, and it was inevitable that I meet them. I just didn't expect it to be so…so tiring. There's a part of me, Gen-kun, that remembers them, but only just barely. Right now, they're almost perfect strangers to me. Most of what I said was outright guessing. I didn't even _know_ what I was saying half the time."

His warmth and strength is soothing, and he listens as I speak without interrupting me. It's as if he knows that I have to get all of this out. He just sits there and holds me and listens to what I need to say.

"What if I never remember more than this?"

I pull away slightly and look up at him. My vision is blurry, and I realise that I'm crying. I wipe my tears away furiously. When did I become such a crybaby? I don't think a sports team captain would be the type to cry over small things like this. I look down at my hands, fingers damp with tears.

"What if I never remember how to play tennis? Tennis… I remember that it was once my life. Now, it's gone. What if I never get it back?" I look back up at him. "Then what?"

He brings a hand up to cup my face, his thumb wipes away a stray tear. His eyes are gentle as he just looks at me without saying a word. I see only deep, dark brown, the colour fills my vision, and I see only him. It's like I'm falling into his eyes. There's something in those chocolate eyes that says he'll be with me forever, that no matter what happens, I'll always have him by my side. He doesn't say a word, but that is what I hear nonetheless.

I fling my arms around him, crying his name. He smiles tenderly and hugs me. "It will be okay, Seiichi. I'll be there with you, every step of the way. You _will_ recover your memory." His embrace is tight, but still comfortable. He rests his head lightly against mine.

"When you get out of here, we can go to a tennis court. It doesn't matter if you can't remember how to hold a racket, how to serve. I'll teach you. It doesn't matter if you can't remember the past. You can make new memories, Seiichi. I'll make them with you. This doesn't have to be the end of anything. You can make it into a new beginning. A blank page is where you start a new story."

"You say that _now_, Genichirou. But when somebody else comes by, when the novelty of your amnesiac lover passes and you grow bored of someone who can only remember part of your relationship…and you _will_, because that's the way the world works… I'll become a duty. You'll stay with me, Genichirou, because it's your _duty_ to stay with me." My chest hurts to think of the possibilities. There's a growing pressure inside me that wants to get out, but I don't dare let it loose. My heart is racing like I've just run a marathon.

"Even if we remain friends, Genichirou, it won't be the same. I don't want to chain you to me—it wouldn't be right. You deserve to have a life separate from me. You're my lifeline, but I won't be yours. I can't be yours. How can I? I can't even keep myself together—you left, I was catatonic for days! It wouldn't be right to keep you…"

I squeeze my eyes shut. I know for certain that he _will_ leave me one day, after the newness of this has faded. He'll grow frustrated that there will always be certain things that he remembers and knows that I _should_ know but can't remember. It won't last. I'll lose the only thing in the world that is familiar to me… The pain in my chest grows, and I realise that I'm gasping for breath. I can't breath. My eyes widen and I scratch at my throat, hoping to loosen the invisible bonds that are choking me.

I can't…breathe…

I gasp his name, clawing at my throat, at him, and back at myself. My eyes beg him to help me, to do something, because I can't draw in the breath to say the words. I see him pressing the call button frantically, but it doesn't register in my brain why he's playing with the little gadget while I'm unable to breathe, why he's not doing anything to help me.

The edges of my vision begin to darken, and I try to blink the grey from my sight. He's shaking me in terror, but not too hard, because he might hurt me if he's too rough. Why is he… I blink at him, mouth open in a vain attempt to breathe or call his name—both seem equally important to me at this moment in time.

It seems like I'm falling away from him, in to a wide, yawning darkness. He's growing further and further away. I try to grasp his hand, his shirt—any part of him.

Suddenly, someone thrusts something into my face, obscuring my vision. I clutch at it, trying to rip it away—it's covering my nose and mouth. I hear voices in the background, but I don't pay them any attention.

"Breathe, Seiichi, breathe."

I turn sharply to one side. It's Sanada.

"Slowly, just one breath first. Only one."

He's the one holding the…it's a paper bag. He's the one holding the bag to my face?

"You're hyperventilating. Take a small breath, just one, and then hold it for a moment."

But I _can't_!

"Yes, you _can_, Seiichi." I glare at him, frustrated and panicking and terrified. He says something to the doctor—how come I didn't notice him earlier?—and the doctor nods and leaves the room. Why is he leaving? _Come back! I don't want to die!_

Sanada takes the bag away from my face, but I still can't breathe. He looms before me, and suddenly kisses me, his lips clamped over mine. He exhales into my mouth, forcing me to accept his breath. He doesn't move for a moment that seems like years, and then he pulls away slowly.

"Exhale, Seiichi, and then take another small breath," he instructs me.

I try to do as he says, and manage a tiny sip of air.

"Don't breathe out," he says immediately, hands grabbing my shoulders. "Hold it in for a moment."

But I have to breathe! What is he trying to do? Kill me? I stare at him in bewilderment.

"Let it out, Seiichi, slowly."

I exhale, shocked by the rattling wheeze that I hear. Is that really me? I take another breath, and it comes easier this time round. As more air gets into my body, the logic of his words and action sink in, and I don't have to wait for his instructions to breath properly. When I'm finally able to breathe without my throat seizing up in terror, I lean against him. His heartbeat is reassuring, and unconsciously, my own tries to slow down to beat in time with his.

"What happened?" I ask shakily.

"You had a panic attack," he tells me. "It's not unusual, for someone with your condition, that's what the doctor told me. He said that you might even get another one, or you might not." He tucks a small lock of hair behind my ear from where sweat has made it stick to my face. "What were you thinking, that you got that attack?"

"That you _will_ leave me one day. You're all that my heart remembers. You're the only certainly in my life, and I don't know what to do when you're no longer in my life. It scares me so much, Sanada, to imagine life without you. You are what fills up the emptiness of my life. Without you, all I see is a void."

"Seiichi, Seiichi…" He tilts my head up so that I have to look into his eyes. "You think of such unproductive, negative things. You will _always_ have me by your side. You never have to fear that I'll leave. Do you understand that?"

I nod, but then his gaze grows intense. "Do you understand me, Seiichi? Don't just say 'yes' without thinking first."

_He'll never leave me?... Really?_

"Promise?" I ask, my voice hopeful, cracking with uncertainty.

"You never have to doubt that, Seiichi, but yes, I promise." He kisses me, the pressure of his lips gentle. "I won't leave you to face this alone."

"Thank you," I whisper, clutching his shirt and pulling him closer. "Thank you."

He changes the angle of the kiss and thrusts his tongue possessively into my mouth. His grip is firm, unyielding, but not enough to hurt. I'm not planning to escape anyway. I kiss him back, but let him lead this little dance. I don't want to be in control right now. For now, I am willing to follow him in anything. He'll keep me safe.

_Thank you, Genichirou_.

A/N:

Wow, I _finally_ got this out. Yeah, I know it's short and weird and maybe a bit boring, but hey. My brain went dead for awhile. -.- about panic attacks… I've never actually had one, so this might not be accurate, but from all that I know (because we _did_ cover a bit on panic attacks for psychology when I was in Melbourne) you get one when you _really_ panic (not something minor like exams jitters, although I'm very sure that you _can_ get panic attacks from exams, for some people), when you are unable to handle certain stimuli. You start to hyperventilate, and since the carbon dioxide level in your body is responsible for your being able to breathe, when you have much more oxygen in your blood compared to carbon dioxide, there is no longer a stimulus for you to breathe, but the rational/conscious brain (or whichever it is that you use for voluntary actions) interprets that as you being unable to breathe, and so no matter how hard you try, you can't breathe properly (and that only adds to the panic, how horrible -.- positive feedback system in homeostasis?). I used the paper bag thing since it works for hyperventilation.

I have _no_ idea if what I wrote is actually accurate or even plausible, but what the heck. It's fanfic, not a psychology/physiology essay. But I'd be ever so grateful if I'm wrong and you point it out for me to edit/correct/whatever.

If Yukimura sounds a bit OOC, remember, he _has_ lost his memory. He's in a great state of confusion, everything is new to him. The only person he seems to be able to remember with any frequency and accuracy seems to be Sanada, so obviously Sanada is of great importance to him. Pkus he's falling in love with Sanada all over again. Imagine falling in love (which is traumatic and destabilizing enough as it is) _and_ trying to regain your memory and life at the same time. I seriously doubt it's easy. But still, I tried to keep him as in-character as I could.

Besides, I'm typing this at 6 in the morning. Give me a break.

Read, review, give me feedback, okay? After all, I'd do it for you (if you have an account).


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